


folié à deux se sent le même que l’amour

by VITRI0L



Category: DreamSMP, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: /roleplay, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Explosions, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Memories, Mentioned Ghostbur - Freeform, No beta we die like l’manburg, One Shot, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, i’m so fucking sad, l’manburg fucking exploded again, mentioned jackmanifold
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:49:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28602483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VITRI0L/pseuds/VITRI0L
Summary: l’manburg’s gone. they lost. tommy can’t help but think about his eldest brother.//lowercase intended\\//TW:\\ implied suicide & smp!dream is manipulative**spoilers for january 6th streams**•••title translation: a madness for two feels the same as lovefoilé à deux: aka a madness for two, is a psychological phenomenon of shared delusions between two people with a close bond
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 9
Kudos: 171





	folié à deux se sent le même que l’amour

**Author's Note:**

> ayo, how we feeling after today’s stream?

tommy loved l’manburg. even with all its faults and all of the craters that scattered the small country like scars, the nation held a place in the blond teen’s shattered heart.

he loved l’manburg.

and maybe he still did.

not that it mattered anymore.

because the country, as loving and as beautiful as tommy saw it, was gone now. attacked once again, withers and tnt rained chaos down on the already broken ground. the nation that they’d fought so desperately for, wilbur’s nation, was now nothing more than crumbling buildings and craters so deep that they seemed not to be real.

_wilbur._

tommy felt his dry throat, coated with dust and dirt, being to close. he stands on top of the ugly obsidian grid, dutifully destroying the redstone with tubbo and quackity. his eyes grew warm and his vision blurred slightly as he thought of the man who’d died merely a few months ago. 

wilbur had built l’manburg. wilbur had also destroyed l’manburg. and ghostbur had been there to pick up all the pieces, restoring tubbo’s l’manburg.

it was wilbur’s nation.

his unfinished symphony.

 _forever unfinished,_ a little voice says.

tears fell, unbidden. tommy wiped them away furiously, uncaring that he was getting redstone dust all over his already ashen face. anger ran through his viens and it was woven into the sharp love in the teen’s empty chest. the result felt so familiar, yet so distant. 

_fuck emotions._

tommy loves l’manburg because it represented wilbur. and when wilbur had committed suicide, when he had wished for death and got just that, the nation was all the the teen had.

l’manburg represented the wilbur that tommy liked.

his brother.

the man who smiled bright and whose eyes glowed with a kind of excitement that tommy rarely understood. 

the wilbur whose music fascinated and confused the younger. that music, that sound so sad and that gentle timber of a guitar that danced through their house. 

the one who was so, so _kind_ and yet such a dick when he wanted to be. 

who’d resolved to make their father proud.

who’d taken tommy along, protected him.

that was the wilbur he knew.

l’manburg was his legacy. 

it was his destruction.

tommy had failed. just like his brother, he’d fall to the powers that be. wil had fallen to schlatt and the destructive hybrid brought out the worst in his brother. and, tommy had fallen to dream and gotten everything he loved taken away.

_“you’re too much fun,” dream said, stifled laughter in his voice._

the teen ran a hand through his hair, feeling the dull pain as some ripped from his scalp. he stomped his torn shoe down on the repeaters, stopping that annoying clicking sound. 

dream was refilling some of the repeaters that the three hadn’t reached yet.

tommy thought he heard quackity mutter, “for fucks sake,” under his breath as the vice president waited for the tyrant to pearl away before making his way over. 

there is no more l’manburg. tommy vaguely recalled the way the world had stopped when the hot dog van had been blown up. 

_he was suffocating._

_tears wouldn’t fall._

_his lungs burned and his viens smoldered with lava._

_yet tommy felt nothing._

_the van was gone._

_wilbur was gone._

he smashed another repeater, this time taking the diligence to smash them all. the teen watched the red light flicker out, dying quickly under his foot. 

tommy broke another, unwilling to linger on the feeling.

that would be dangerous.

l’manburg was gone and they’d lost. even ghostbur, the innocent and naïve version of his brother that the older was, had sobbed upon seeing the sight.

_“where’s friend?” ghostbur whispered, voice faltering._

tommy scowled.

because l’manburg was gone, wilbur was gone, his discs were gone and dream had gone, but... it wasn’t over.

_“our story will never be over, tommy.”_

_fuck off,_ he told the thought.

tommy hated himself and he hated wil too. but, he hated dream way more.

tommy was getting those god forsaken discs back and he was going to fucking kill dream while he was at it. the teen was going to get his revenge and he was going to finally end all of this. 

and, tommy would do it with tubbo by his side.

for l’manburg.

so, when ghostbur’s broken voice came over the communicator, filled with sadness after speaking to phil...

_“we were sending a message, wil. one day you’ll understand.”_

...and demanded that tommy bring him back to life, tommy had no choice but to agree.

because he was doing this for wilbur.

•••

_“wilby...?”_

_the brunet was still awake, sat on the table of the caravan. his glasses are on, his hair fell in the way of his tired eyes. he was slumped over a book that he obliviously could see in the darkness of night, yet the man refused to sleep._

_“yes, toms?” wil replied, carefully placing the book beside him and turning to his baby brother._

_tubbo and fundy lay on the floor nearby, so the two talked gently. neither brother noted or noticed eret’s absence._

_“i... i can’t sleep—“ tommy said._

_his blue eyes fell to the ground and his ears were tinted red from embarrassment. it didn’t help when wilbur cooed softly._

_“c’mere.”_

_tommy did so, still refusing to look at his brother. wilbur smiled as he stood. carefully, he took tommy’s forearm and pulled the teen onto the ground._

_he sat crossed legged and leaning his back against the van’s flimsy wall. tommy was pulled down beside him and wil wrapped him into a warm embrace._

_tommy flushed indignantly, opening his mouth to tell wil that he wasn’t a child and that he could take care of himself._

_“go to sleep, toms,” wilbur told him softly. “i stay with you, promise.”_

_tommy couldn’t find it in his weary body to protest. the older’s embrace felt safe and suddenly, all the teen’s worries had seemed to evaporate._

_tommy fell asleep, held close like he was the most precious thing in the world. he rested his head against the warm wool of wilbur’s revolutionary coat, not minding the smell of sweat and gunpowder that it carried._

_wilbur didn’t sleep, but he didn’t think about the upcoming war either._

_but, it couldn’t last._

_the sun rose too soon._

•••

tears ran down tommy’s cheeks, craving paths into his stained ( _bloodied, dirtied_ ) skin.

jack, tubbo, quackity and ghostbur didn’t comment.

rain soaked the world around them.

chirp played softly.

and tommy thought;

_for wil._

**Author's Note:**

> ;-;
> 
> currently editing my story and i just saw the clip where ghostbur yells at phil. and when i tell you my heart broke... i was a crying mess. can’t believe smp!philza would let friend die like that, smh
> 
> i hope you are well <3
> 
> have a good night!


End file.
